tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4941352563076065972017-09-12T21:37:23.596-04:00Behind Bars: Serving Time to Serve the DreamA woman embarks upon a relentless pursuit of her dreams... these are her "letters from the inside."
Adriane Kileynoreply@blogger.comBlogger96125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-48492920387105830462013-12-31T12:32:00.001-05:002013-12-31T12:47:54.772-05:00Better Than the Last...It's only natural that on New Year's Eve, we reflect over the year that is rapidly coming to an end. &nbsp;And in so doing, we tend to take stock of our lives, the good with the bad, and create a set of 'resolutions' accordingly. &nbsp;It's a nice way to enter into a brand new year; armed with aspirations and only the best of intentions.<br /><br />I guess you could say that it is somewhat of a romantic notion; how the very last day of the year can spark so much enthusiasm and hope for the coming year. &nbsp;I don't really have resolutions though. &nbsp;To be perfectly honest, I never much fancied the idea of giving myself an even bigger "to-do" list than the one that life sends automatically direct into my mailbox, e-mail inbox and sticks on to my already crowded magnet and post-it splattered refrigerator door. <br /><br />Is that less than ambitious of me? Probably so. However, I like to think of myself as a realist. Never a huge fan of feeling like a failure; I just don't find it necessary to add an even longer list of marks that I may or may not hit.<br /><br />So, having said all that, I woke up this morning on this New Year's Eve, and I wondered: <i>is my strategy of 'non-new year's resolution' working out very well in my favor? Or... am I just going through each year without... uhh resolve?&nbsp;</i><br /><i><br /></i><i>Hmmm... I might have to get back to you on that one...</i><br /><i><br /></i>So now, I'm sitting here with my coffee (<i>of course</i>) and I am seriously contemplating if there should just be <i>one </i>thing... just <i>one</i>, that is worth pursuing, even at the risk of, dare I even say the word: <i>failure</i>?<br /><br />That might not be such a bad idea; to set out into a brand new year with at least one main focus or objective could actually provide an overall sense of guidance that could be very comforting when feeling, <i>ehh...</i> <i>adrift.</i>&nbsp; Sort of like having a lighthouse in your harbor at all times... I like that. <br /><br />I will tell you this much; I had <i>no idea</i>&nbsp;on this New Year's Eve one year ago, what 2013 would have in store for me. &nbsp;<i>Not in the slightest...</i> But I can assure you that it has not only been an adventure, but a test of willpower every step of the way.<br /><br />Sometimes I forget that even though it is a lonely road and sometimes a bit uncomfortable... this is all by my own design. &nbsp;I made a series of choices that in one way or another, turned a life I had only been able to imagine, into something <i>very real</i>. <br /><br />So maybe I am hitting my marks after all. <br /><br />As 2013 comes to and end and we gear up for the New Year, let's aspire for greatness, intend for kindness and hopefully not abandon the lessons learned from the years leading up to this one. &nbsp;Wait a minute, maybe I actually do have a few resolutions in my pocket...<br /><br /><b>May we all have a little taste of our dreams coming true in 2014.</b><br /><br />I'm so grateful to you, my friends and readers for encouraging me to write and share this wonderful experience of life with you. <br /><br /><i><b>Happy New Year!!!!</b></i><br /><br />Today:<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange;">Champagne.... and LOTS of it!!!!!</span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U0Q7_r2qOgU/UeQkIiwv2KI/AAAAAAAAAGU/scbtQ7QnUvE/s1600/IMAG1055.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q9iOMPBGYZ4/UeQkZ1Qi5PI/AAAAAAAAAGc/pRYB4tnUS6w/s1600/IMAG3480_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q9iOMPBGYZ4/UeQkZ1Qi5PI/AAAAAAAAAGc/pRYB4tnUS6w/s1600/IMAG3480_2.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FxYjVKMU4Tc/UeGIt84PhPI/AAAAAAAAAD8/t9v6DslFmyI/s1600/IMAG3213_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FxYjVKMU4Tc/UeGIt84PhPI/AAAAAAAAAD8/t9v6DslFmyI/s1600/IMAG3213_2.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7gAf369q3Dk/UoESTN1xjcI/AAAAAAAAGbU/SoXCaVZdl5s/s1600/IMG_1767.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7gAf369q3Dk/UoESTN1xjcI/AAAAAAAAGbU/SoXCaVZdl5s/s1600/IMG_1767.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ikKh8ABwmEk/UqX6a29lYyI/AAAAAAAAH8U/J64pbn8aAUY/s1600/IMG_2046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ikKh8ABwmEk/UqX6a29lYyI/AAAAAAAAH8U/J64pbn8aAUY/s1600/IMG_2046.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><br /><br />Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-20037849549348372352013-12-27T12:54:00.000-05:002013-12-27T12:54:38.485-05:00It's a Wonderful LifeHave you ever accidentally overheard people talking about you when they thought you weren't in close enough proximity to actually hear their words? Let me ask you something; did you like what you heard? Or were you in fact, horrified by their misguided and half-baked assessments?<br /><br />The other day, I was at a little holiday party amongst a few of my co-workers. &nbsp;Still relatively new to New York, I figured I ought to go to the party and socialize a bit. &nbsp;When I got up from the table to find the restroom, I overheard some people suddenly begin to talk about me almost instantaneously. &nbsp;The craziest thing was, they couldn't have been further from the truth... or my perception of it anyway. <br /><br />I left the party shortly thereafter. &nbsp;And as I slowly walked home, playing back the words and drunken assessments of others, I suddenly felt overwhelmed with a sinking disappointment. &nbsp;I felt a little silly for caring so much. &nbsp;But the truth is, I went to the party having an open mind about the people I was hoping to get to know, only to discover that a few of them had already made their minds up about me a while ago.<br /><br />It is an unfortunate aspect of human nature: making snap judgements and at-a-glance presumptions without ever considering all the facts.<br /><br />It was the night before Christmas Eve. &nbsp;The cards had been stacking up against me for weeks. &nbsp;And that experience at the party was enough to send me right over the edge. &nbsp;But then, I got to thinking...<br /><br />I may not ever understand how other people perceive me, or worse, <i>how</i> they arrived at their short-sighted conclusions in the first place. But ultimately, what I realized, is that in the long run, it doesn't matter. &nbsp;<br /><br />The big picture here, what matters, is how you see yourself. &nbsp;From there, so much is possible. &nbsp;<br /><br />For a long time, how I saw myself wasn't entirely fair or very accurate. It was a similarly short sighted perspective, derived from a skewed perspective of my own reality. <br /><br />And after thirty years of living life, following my heart and taking chances, I've come to appreciate the person I see today.<br /><br />I am not a victim or a '<i>survivor</i>'. &nbsp;I am simply a human being who has made a zillion decisions over the past three decades that have all, in one way or another, shaped my experience on this planet in such a fashion that I am able to see the world and function within it, the only way I know how: with intense sensitivity and emotional awareness. <br /><br />I think the lesson here is pretty simple; we are all the authors of our own story. &nbsp;We have <i><b>no idea</b></i> what someone else is going through, which means that our assessments of ourselves and others is probably not entirely accurate. But, if we can muster up the courage to <u>own</u>&nbsp;our choices, <i>as well as their consequences</i>, we may find a sense of peace that surpasses all understanding. <br /><br />People will make presumptions about you and assign a simplified version of your character. &nbsp;<b><i>What can you do?</i> <u>That's life</u>. </b>That is, most often, a filtering mechanism or in the very least, lazy social skills.<br /><br />I'm not perfect. I may have had a few hard knocks and tough blows along the way. &nbsp;But I didn't just stumble accidentally through major life events unknowingly or without great thought or analysis. &nbsp;This very moment is the product of every choice that preceded it.<br /><br />It may not be exactly what I imagined or had planned, but that could very well be God directing me to greater experiences than I was ever capable of imaging.<br /><br />As we approach the new year, I hope to challenge us all to consider that our snap judgements of others are not productive or necessarily fair. &nbsp;Furthermore, they could also be quite hurtful. This holiday season, give someone the benefit of the doubt and you might be surprised. Let their truth be revealed in time with compassion and even a little bit of faith. &nbsp;Apply this concept to <i>how</i> <i>you see yourself</i>... and you might wake up more comfortable in your skin than ever before.&nbsp;<br /><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999;">Today:</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999;">Smoke and Mirrors</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999;">1 1/2 oz of Single Malt Whiskey</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999;">1/2 oz Benedictine Liqueur&nbsp;</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999;">1/2 oz Byrrh Aperitif&nbsp;</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999;">Dash of Angostura Bitters</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999;">Stir and strain into a Coupe</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999;">Garnish with an orange zest</span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1ZE1N5Atmxg/Ur25XDDdomI/AAAAAAAAIyU/aHa4mxacW3E/s1600/IMG_2312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1ZE1N5Atmxg/Ur25XDDdomI/AAAAAAAAIyU/aHa4mxacW3E/s1600/IMG_2312.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H-q_LxQwqIE/Ur25XNY_gqI/AAAAAAAAIyU/l0aRMb63U0w/s1600/IMG_2278.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H-q_LxQwqIE/Ur25XNY_gqI/AAAAAAAAIyU/l0aRMb63U0w/s1600/IMG_2278.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4Nv8hGNMILg/Ur25XDCSjbI/AAAAAAAAIyU/9Vs95CsUsek/s1600/IMG_2280.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4Nv8hGNMILg/Ur25XDCSjbI/AAAAAAAAIyU/9Vs95CsUsek/s1600/IMG_2280.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;Wishing my friends and family health, happiness and love in the New Year.&nbsp;</div>&nbsp; &nbsp; Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-22333853123531466442013-12-09T12:19:00.002-05:002013-12-09T12:26:11.720-05:00Look Up!I once heard it said that 'to turn the other cheek' actually means something more along the lines of 'shifting your perspective.' I guess that concept has always stuck with me. &nbsp;And you know, it really does make sense. &nbsp;It isn't so much an idea that you ought to just<i> bend over and take it</i> (sorry for that analogy) but rather, a sort of pause and extension of grace to consider the world as you know it from maybe a slightly <i>differen</i>t perspective. <br /><div><br /></div><div>What would we see differently if we <i>turned our cheek</i>? Even the literal physical movement of <i>where </i>we set our gaze <u>tremendously</u> influences our perspective of the world around us.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I know this to be true; especially after living here in New York City for the past two months. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>When things are great, I look up...&nbsp;<i>way up</i>. &nbsp;When I look up this high, I see birds zipping between buildings amid a back drop of puffy pink clouds and reflective glass panes. &nbsp;That is when it feels&nbsp;<i>amazing</i>&nbsp;to be here.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>And when the days are more on the average side of life, I cast my gaze straight ahead. I move&nbsp;<i>forward with purpose</i>&nbsp;and some measure of focus. &nbsp;I move along with the steady flow of life here and I get the job done. &nbsp;I am neither especially high <i>nor</i> especially low. Those are pretty good days too.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I spend a significant amount of time walking. &nbsp;I am outside in the fresh air... sometimes in a complete trance. &nbsp;Each day, I walk from place to place, bombarded by the zillion and one crazy thoughts I have going on in my mind at any given moment. And oftentimes, the more stressed out I am, the lower my gaze falls.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>On those days, where I was so tired, so beat up and on the verge of throwing in the towel, I can't help but acknowledge how much my perspective was influenced by the way I held my gaze... <b>to the concrete</b>. &nbsp;It seemed that New York and I <i>were</i>/<b>are</b> a bit at odds about how exactly I am meant to live here. &nbsp;And what I was beginning to see wasn't all that glitzy anymore...</div><div><br /></div><div><div>What I haven't been able to write about for a good while now, &nbsp;is just how difficult it has proven to be to make a life in this city. I am still without my own address. &nbsp;I am living with friends who have sacrificed their own personal space, so that I may find my own little corner of this city to eventually call my own. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I have been struggling with this process more than I can even begin to describe. I was so close to booking a flight out of here a week ago, that I practically had the exit strategy in full swing. &nbsp;</div></div><div><br /></div><div>Walking along my normal route, with my head tilted downward, I saw dirt, grime, poverty, trash, bubble gum, cigarettes, excrement (human and animal); all beneath the the crunching sound of the bones of my bruised feet.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>But then, I remembered that little New Yorker on my shoulder (he's a lawyer and curses frequently) saying "Look up. <i>Adriane,</i> <b>LOOK THE FUCK UP</b>!"&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I am then pulled away from staring at my feet and the concrete below and suddenly, even if only for a moment, I actually <i>do</i> look (the fuck) <b>UP</b>.</div><div><br /></div><div>In that moment, you realize how so much of life (and how we experience it) is expressed through the lens we<i> choose</i> to look through.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I suppose I just wanted to share this with you all today. &nbsp;If you are facing something that is requiring a lot from you, perhaps it is wise to take a moment to consider a shift in perspective. &nbsp;The world is comprised of many layers and factors. &nbsp;And if you cannot see your way out of whatever crap that is tempting your demise or failure, then remember to <i><b>look up;&nbsp;</b></i>before you know it, so too will everything else. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>No more back up plans or exit strategies. &nbsp;I am not leaving this city until I've accomplished whatever it is that brought me here to begin with. So with that settled, I'd say that things are definitely looking up.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Today:</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">Spicy Margarita</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">1 oz Tequila</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">1/2 oz Triple Sec</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">Splash of Sour Mix</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">Sprig of fresh Cilantro</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">1/3 small red chili&nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">muddle gently and shake ingredients</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">Salt Rim and a Lime Wedge!&nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ikKh8ABwmEk/UqX6a29lYyI/AAAAAAAAH8Q/UXv64Vv4gVY/s1600/IMG_2046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ikKh8ABwmEk/UqX6a29lYyI/AAAAAAAAH8Q/UXv64Vv4gVY/s1600/IMG_2046.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-en-jGBo7150/UqX6a8QBdII/AAAAAAAAH8Q/qUmtaQmntQk/s1600/IMG_1345.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-en-jGBo7150/UqX6a8QBdII/AAAAAAAAH8Q/qUmtaQmntQk/s1600/IMG_1345.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zdq8XXqzXzI/UqX6kG-YIBI/AAAAAAAAH8c/OkRDHlrn1n0/s1600/IMG_2151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zdq8XXqzXzI/UqX6kG-YIBI/AAAAAAAAH8c/OkRDHlrn1n0/s1600/IMG_2151.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-40015360969012188852013-11-11T12:26:00.001-05:002013-11-11T12:26:18.103-05:00Mail Me a HugI have this coat; it's puffy, brown, zips and buttons down the front and has a furry hood. &nbsp;I refer to it as my "burrito jacket" because that is how I feel stuffed inside this thing. &nbsp;It is unbelievably warm and resilient to wind, rain, sleet, snow and even provides a cushy buffer in a hail storm: it's the perfect answer to winter.&nbsp;<div><br /></div><div>This jacket and I first came to know each other back in 2007 when I was living in Santa Fe, New Mexico during the holidays (which, as a side note, is a VERY cold place in the winter months due to the dry desert climate and high elevation). My parents came to visit me for Thanksgiving that year and the jacket was a gift from my mom; I have worn it relentlessly every winter since. &nbsp; <br /><div><br /></div><div>However, upon "preparing" for this "trip" to New York, I had made some bizarre choice to leave it behind. &nbsp;<i>Mind you, it is <b>enormous.</b></i><b> </b>&nbsp;And as the early signs of winter encroached upon the East Coast, I suddenly realized my glaring mistake. &nbsp;<i>Oh my God, I'm going to freeze to death before making it to the train.</i>&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I suppose I overestimated my ability to tough it out in my layers and down vest. &nbsp;No sir, there are just some storms, some conditions that require a little <i>added protection</i>.<i><b> &nbsp;</b></i></div><div><i><b><br /></b></i></div><div><i><b>Okay...I should have packed the damn jacket.&nbsp;</b></i></div><div><br /></div><div>My mom is practically a meteorologist. &nbsp;She spends, what must be hours, charting and plotting the weather conditions from both ends of the United States. &nbsp;When I lived in the South, she would regularly track the volatile activity of the cold fronts clashing with the warm southern air. &nbsp;If there was a storm coming, mom would be the first to know even from a thousand miles away. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>So is it any wonder that with mixed rain and snow flurries on the horizon, I received a package in the mail containing none other than my beloved burrito jacket?!?!&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I opened the box at the post office and immediately wrapped myself in the warm coat. &nbsp;It was more than a feeling of warmth though. &nbsp;It was, honest to God, as if for a moment I could feel my mom give me a hug. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Suddenly, I felt invincible.<i><b> </b>I'm protected. I'm warm. I'm loved. I'm never alone.<b>&nbsp;</b></i>Walking the streets of Manhattan, armed with down feathers and a hug, I am pretty sure I will be okay. &nbsp;And I have my mom, the U.S. Postal Service and Anne Klein to thank for that.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Sometimes we don't always know how a simple gesture can impact a person's life. &nbsp;We can't imagine how mailing a jacket could be like mailing a hug. &nbsp;Who would have thought that possible anyway? &nbsp;But I can assure you one thing:<i>&nbsp;'if it fits it ships'</i>..<i>. </i>&nbsp;And love<i> always</i>&nbsp;finds a way to <i>fit.</i></div><div><br /></div><div>I've slept with the jacket over me for the past few nights. &nbsp;Guess I needed a little more than my warmest winter jacket<i>.</i>&nbsp; I've just needed a hug or two, from mom. And I got that... surprisingly by mail.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Today:</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">Never on Sunday</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">1 1/2 oz Gin</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">1/2 oz Fresh squeezed lime juice</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">Generous splash of Fresh Squeezed Ginger</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">1/2 oz Creme de Cassis&nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">Splash of Simple Syrup</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">Splash of Soda</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;">On the Rocks</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7gAf369q3Dk/UoESTN1xjcI/AAAAAAAAGbM/fe4jzuYyHkM/s1600/IMG_1767.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7gAf369q3Dk/UoESTN1xjcI/AAAAAAAAGbM/fe4jzuYyHkM/s1600/IMG_1767.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hplUJINKjeQ/UoESTBj3i5I/AAAAAAAAGbM/oNYym7Jubic/s1600/IMG_1769.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hplUJINKjeQ/UoESTBj3i5I/AAAAAAAAGbM/oNYym7Jubic/s1600/IMG_1769.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wC9OA0U1Fps/UoERumgQpcI/AAAAAAAAGX0/kcEBceQSrQM/s1600/IMG_1641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wC9OA0U1Fps/UoERumgQpcI/AAAAAAAAGX0/kcEBceQSrQM/s1600/IMG_1641.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IoHD1R9P9Vo/UoERunw9mjI/AAAAAAAAGX0/bSCrThTUKGc/s1600/IMG_1772.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IoHD1R9P9Vo/UoERunw9mjI/AAAAAAAAGX0/bSCrThTUKGc/s1600/IMG_1772.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-90019336505101582082013-11-01T23:04:00.001-04:002013-11-07T21:46:40.724-05:00It's Not You, It's MeOne month ago, I arrived in New York; and ever since that first moment when my feet hit the long stretch of concrete, my mind has been a complete mess of muddled mush. <br /><div><br /></div><div>Imagine the fastest, highest, wildest roller coaster ride you've ever been on in your life. &nbsp;The world around you flashes by in an instant. &nbsp;Strands of hair whip you across your face, whether it's your own hair or the person sitting next to you. &nbsp;You have no idea what has possessed you to stand in line for what feels like an eternity, only to get whipped in the face, jerked from side to side and nearly losing your lunch. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>You step off the roller coaster and have absolutely no recollection of what you saw as you were being hurled through the air along the winding track, but you are fairly certain it was amazing because it <i>felt </i>amazing. &nbsp;My friends, that is the only way I know how to describe the past four weeks of my life in New York City.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Each day has been a surprise, an exercise, a conflict, a challenge, an enlightenment. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I have felt happy, intimidated, courageous, lonely, afflicted, creative, tired, observant and every now and then: defeated. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Every moment has demanded some measure of concentration: even if only to close my eyes and try to let go of the events of the given day. &nbsp;In this city, while working full time at a new job and still living out of two suitcases, even the seemingly simple and natural act of sleeping requires a concentrated effort. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>My writing had been set aside these past few weeks, as I opted to take in what I saw, rather than share it with the world as I had been this past summer. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>The lack of stability and familiarity has burdened my thoughts and mind in such a way that is difficult to articulate. &nbsp;And as I sat on the shore of the East River along Brooklyn's busy borough, I wondered; <i>Am I happy?</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>And much like the meager attempt to enjoy the view from a speeding roller coaster, I began to see happiness in a similarly blurred and mysterious way. &nbsp;I had ventured out of Manhattan in an effort to see the sunset; something that is very difficult to do in an otherwise completely vertical city. And as I sat there gazing across the river, I began to laugh a little as the sun sank behind the entire island of Manhattan, still blocked by the skyscrapers that line the entire radius of the city. <br /><br />It was funny, because in that moment, I realized how much effort it is going to take to survive here. <br /><br />Am I happy here? &nbsp;Was I really ever happy anywhere?<br /><br />For short stints of time, yes, I felt happy. &nbsp;Skipping around from place to place trying to outrun, outsmart, outmaneuver myself. &nbsp;But time and time again, the void followed. <br /><br />And now, as I sit at my computer and finally bring myself back to my writing, I realize that the void is not where I reside, but rather what has always been residing within me. <br /><br />It is terrifying to finally understand that I need to face my fears, and hopefully believe in myself enough to follow my dreams. <br /><br />New York City is only the backdrop of this story I have decided to share with you. &nbsp;And I will tell you this much; it is a character all its own. <br /><br />Today:<br /><br />Peach Bellini<br /><br />Fresh Peach puree<br />Glass of Prosecco<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8YbdjFuMw6w/UnRrQbj-xzI/AAAAAAAAFY8/5rM-SucqsQc/s1600/IMG_1186.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8YbdjFuMw6w/UnRrQbj-xzI/AAAAAAAAFY8/5rM-SucqsQc/s1600/IMG_1186.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-L9wuoxvM_64/UnRriXq_vLI/AAAAAAAAFZE/N2b9CofUoP0/s1600/IMG_1246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-L9wuoxvM_64/UnRriXq_vLI/AAAAAAAAFZE/N2b9CofUoP0/s1600/IMG_1246.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-43824196023221668922013-10-12T22:10:00.000-04:002013-10-12T22:15:46.128-04:00Love Never Dies<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Throughout the course of our lives, we may fall deeply in love a dozen or so times. Whether it is falling in love with a boyfriend, a best friend, or even a pet you've come to think of as family; love has a way of leaving a mark so permanent we will forever be reminded of it. Think about this for a moment...</span><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Imagine someone you love very much. Now imagine someone who is no longer with you. &nbsp;Perhaps it was a family member you loved very much who passed away. Do you love them <i><b>any less</b></i> in their physical absence? Did the love you feel for that wonderful creature vanish in its passing?<i> Of course not.</i>&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Love simply <b>does not</b> evaporate into thin air. &nbsp;<i>It lingers, for a lifetime...</i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The past month or so has been a testimony of the absolute, <i>undeniable </i><u>certainty</u> that <b>love never dies</b>. &nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have seen the many ways in which love is revealed and preserved over the passing of time. &nbsp;And it just leaves me in the most wonderful feeling of gratitude. &nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Over the past few weeks, I have been surrounded by stories of love and loss. &nbsp;People all around me were experiencing their own version of an epic love story. &nbsp;Whether it was losing a beloved wife to Father Time after (over) sixty years marriage together, the tragic and untimely loss of a family member gone too soon, or in my case, the passing of one of my most treasured friends, my pet of eleven wonderful years, Pepper... they are all shining examples of how<b> <i>love</i>&nbsp;is not</b> ever really <b>lost.</b> &nbsp;&nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And that is what makes the act of loving someone, or something outside of yourself so incredibly sacred. &nbsp;It is allowing a seed to be planted to grow within your heart, regardless of the burden you will certainly feel at the moment of inevitable loss.&nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Loss doesn't always mean death either. &nbsp;Loss can simply be the moment a choice was made to walk on separate paths. It can be as simple as a high school break-up; leaving a pitted scar where there once was none. &nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So whether it is separateness from death, or simply choosing different paths, I feel quite sure that where there was once the most pure essence of love, &nbsp;hiding forever in that heartbreak, is a timeless and eternal feeling that remains. &nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And it is so comforting...</span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It is comforting to know that even <i>long</i> after the physical, tangible essence falls away, <b>true love never falls away. &nbsp;</b></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Perhaps I am overly sentimental. &nbsp;<i>Big deal. &nbsp;</i>Perhaps I'm over thinking this. &nbsp;<i>Who cares? &nbsp;I care...&nbsp;</i></span></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I care about this subject because I know how tremendously comforted I was in the exact moment I realized that <b>not one drop of the love was lost,</b> when I said goodbye to the tangible physical being of my little pet, Pepper. &nbsp;Not one single ounce of the love I have for her passed away when she did. My love burns bright as ever: alive and well. &nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I sat down over a beer last night with my '<i>once upon a time'</i> high-school flame, it hit me like a freight train: the most innocent aspect of human emotion is our <i>tireless</i> capacity to love, even in the face of countless losses. &nbsp;We can go for a walk now as simply two friends, who share a very special <i>past</i> history. &nbsp;Neither one of us had to force a friendship out of thin air. &nbsp;We <i>are </i>friends, because we probably <i>always were</i>, even throughout our fourteen year absence.&nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We do not have to re-create the feeling of care, when it is always within. &nbsp;We do not have to light a candle, sit by a tombstone, or force that tangible feeling to remain. &nbsp;We can let go of whatever form we were first introduced as, and treasure the essence that is eternal. &nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We are temporary yes... But real love is not fleeting... it is everlasting. &nbsp;Love can be passed down through generations; through family albums, funny stories, specific characterizations and mannerisms, or simply, the most intimate and private truths that only we who shared it will ever truly know and understand. &nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Love is the most precious and divine gift we can experience. &nbsp;We do not have to hold on to it with a tight grip: as if it will somehow slip through our fingers. &nbsp;Love doesn't need to be <i>captured </i>or <i>forcefully retained</i>.&nbsp;</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Honest love exists independent of any "<i>doing"</i> on our part. &nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love my family, my friends, and yes, even my pets, with <i>every </i>fiber of my being; and not <i>one</i> thing on this earth can take that love away. We may die, but love never dies. It is a force greater than our physical limitations. And for this gift, I am so humbled and bursting with gratitude. &nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Pepper bunny isn't really gone; because my love for her hasn't <i>gone</i> anywhere... and it<i> never </i>will. &nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">Fau</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999;">ker's Fa</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;">vorite</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1 oz Jameson's Irish Whiskey</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #999999; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Splash of Gingerale</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">on the rocks.&nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wNEUPSdIXPM/Uln-DReZaWI/AAAAAAAABXQ/ESMUxyM9WWg/s1600/IMG_0079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wNEUPSdIXPM/Uln-DReZaWI/AAAAAAAABXQ/ESMUxyM9WWg/s1600/IMG_0079.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Pepper Bunny</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">August 2002 - October 10, 2013</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;">Thank you Pep, for getting me through the toughest decade of my entire life. Only you and I will ever know just how massive the scope of that thank you truly is. I miss you, I love you.&nbsp;</span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-11812915297628233242013-10-11T23:59:00.001-04:002013-10-18T23:15:52.708-04:00Always With MeIn loving memory of my sweet Pepper. My angel doesn't fly... She hops.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4Atp-1wT5wU/UmH5UN91AhI/AAAAAAAAC6c/xmdgQmHccp0/s1600/IMG_0542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4Atp-1wT5wU/UmH5UN91AhI/AAAAAAAAC6c/xmdgQmHccp0/s1600/IMG_0542.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><br />Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-37352680232232630382013-10-09T11:36:00.003-04:002013-10-09T11:36:47.304-04:00Writer InterruptedAt last; a chance to write from "home." &nbsp;Isn't it funny how some routines are so important to our overall sense of happiness and well-being? Even a simple routine as waking up, brewing coffee and blogging?&nbsp;<div><br /></div><div>It hasn't exactly been the easiest task; wandering around from one end of the city to another looking for a place to write. &nbsp;Most coffee houses are packed with fellow writers or simply a dozen or so people with little battery life. &nbsp;The outlets are a hot commodity to come by; as almost every person wants to charge... something.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I would attempt to write from my Mini i-Pad from a crowded Starbucks or other local spot offering free wifi. &nbsp;But unfortunately, that is&nbsp;<i>not</i> always the most ideal environment. &nbsp;And I have yet to find my own little writers corner... my spot. &nbsp;Furthermore, I am always in between appointments or am off to the grocery store, catching a train, fiddling with my new work materials or simply lying down to catch some much needed <i>zzzzzzzzzzs.&nbsp;</i></div><div><br /></div><div>So today, I finally feel comfortable enough to brew coffee and write from the apartment I am sharing for the month. &nbsp;It's quiet this morning and I don't have to go into work until 8 p.m. tonight.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>You see, I was in in a terrible funk the past two days; unable to find a place or a good time to write. &nbsp;I am just the type of person who really enjoys a certain amount of structure. &nbsp;So when I knew I had pretty much the entire day to myself before heading into the city to work, I jumped at the opportunity to write: still in my pajamas and sipping pumpkin spiced coffee from Trader Joe's market. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>In some ways, I can't believe I have only been in New York a week. &nbsp;I've been training at a new serving job and reconnecting with friends who live here. &nbsp;Almost every moment has been filled in some way, even if only by the long walks I would take around Central Park. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I realized something just before falling asleep last night; constant creativity produces more creativity. &nbsp;It isn't something that dries up. &nbsp;Creativity is rather like a muscle that only gets stronger the more it is flexed and exercised. &nbsp;And so, I must continue my creative pursuits. &nbsp;As steady as ever, I must nurture creativity as best as I possibly can. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>This is such a creative place. &nbsp;And everywhere I look I am surrounded by the people who are actually <i>"making it." &nbsp;</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>If only that were me. &nbsp;Another bottle of Champagne please...&nbsp;</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>This is all part of serving the bigger picture though. And from the bottom of my heart, I wish to get there one day: sitting <i>at </i>the table rather than standing before it. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>But for now, I am on my way to writing a new chapter; a new story. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>This past week of moving and getting a job has most certainly interrupted the steady flow of creativity that I suppose I had, in some ways, taken for granted. &nbsp;Let's just say I was a <i>writer interrupted</i>. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>But I believe that now, more than ever, is the time to protect and serve creativity as best as I can; establishing a sense of structure in an otherwise volatile but thrilling moment in time. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Today:</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;">Gin Rickey</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;">1 1/2 oz Gin</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;">1/2 oz Lime Juice</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;">Splash of Soda</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;">On the Rocks in a Highball Glass</span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yAEt1WAM7WQ/UlI3sng6V3I/AAAAAAAABHE/YYXE5dlM4oo/s1600/13+-+1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yAEt1WAM7WQ/UlI3sng6V3I/AAAAAAAABHE/YYXE5dlM4oo/s1600/13+-+1" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YXNO4mQ3GIY/UlI3srao6II/AAAAAAAABII/AeLb-dQdMH4/s1600/13+-+30" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YXNO4mQ3GIY/UlI3srao6II/AAAAAAAABII/AeLb-dQdMH4/s1600/13+-+30" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Wm__YOLWPdc/UlV2DWUnttI/AAAAAAAABWw/SYozLYUcE78/s1600/IMG_0726.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Wm__YOLWPdc/UlV2DWUnttI/AAAAAAAABWw/SYozLYUcE78/s1600/IMG_0726.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div>Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-85573446258524108002013-10-06T23:41:00.000-04:002013-10-09T00:29:27.614-04:00What's Just Around the CornerLast night I had the opportunity to catch up with an old friend over some great drinks and a very long walk. &nbsp;It was a warm night, and there was just something so incredibly poetic about the entire experience. <br /><br />I didn't know what to expect, as this encounter was more than unexpected. &nbsp;So we just let the conversation flow as naturally as possible. &nbsp;And I began connecting the dots, between his experiences and my own. <br /><br />Perhaps because we are both writers and a little prone to emotional indulgences, we both ate up the nostalgia as if it were the most delicious main course in all of New York City. <br /><br />But then, just as sudden and unexpectedly as the moment we ran into one another in a crowded market just a few days ago, the gravity of the situation hit me and I came to a startling realization; we never truly know what is just around the corner. <br /><br /><i>Isn't that absolutely magical?</i><br /><br />I have to tell you that the past five days have been like something out of a movie. &nbsp;There are young couples strolling hand in hand around almost every corner, kids blowing perfectly round bubbles the size of grapefruits along the paths in Central Park, and each scene is perfectly scored with some kind of pure and equally enchanting source music. <i>&nbsp;It's frightfully wonderful. </i><br /><br />Every corner unfolds some depiction of life, love, survival, creativity, work, struggle and yes, the ever impressive American dream. <br /><br />We are all in this place because it is feeding something within our hearts that is down right <i>demanding</i> to be heard. &nbsp;In fact, the buildings themselves are demanding in their own right. &nbsp;They stand over us; towering and impressive. &nbsp;They have their own unique voices and dresscode. &nbsp;The buildings provide me great company. &nbsp;They are my beacons, my mile markers, and my way of navigating from one corner of the map to the other.<br /><br />All these people I see around me have completely overwhelmed my senses. &nbsp;And I find myself struggling to find the words to express what I feel each day as I walk through the countless blocks and stretch of concrete.<br /><br />I can't very well explain it. &nbsp;I can't really figure out how to quantify the countless moments I catch myself in awe. <br /><br />And I know that this feeling will inevitably fade over time as I too, am cast alongside this wonderful hit show that is Manhattan. &nbsp;But for now, I still catch my breath each time I turn a corner and am presented with granduer and wonderment.<br /><br />Tomorrow I start my job. &nbsp;And then, I will have officially taken my first big bite of this 'Big Apple.' &nbsp;I will have my own routine and semblance of a life as a proper city girl. &nbsp;Who knows what is waiting around the next corner... maybe the best is yet to come. <br /><br />Until then, this corner is looking <i>pretty</i> good.<br /><br />Today<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666;">Lil Nicky</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666;">1oz Vodka</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666;">1/2 oz Pama Liqueur</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666;">Splash of Soda</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666;">On the rocks with a lime wedge.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m8165aaM1oA/UlTaXfQu_nI/AAAAAAAABWc/Ln7IZTKwyv8/s1600/IMG_0587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m8165aaM1oA/UlTaXfQu_nI/AAAAAAAABWc/Ln7IZTKwyv8/s1600/IMG_0587.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xubA1KB6jl4/UlTZ8umAiwI/AAAAAAAABWY/amCUTJEjjGw/s1600/IMG_0624.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xubA1KB6jl4/UlTZ8umAiwI/AAAAAAAABWY/amCUTJEjjGw/s1600/IMG_0624.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hgDhTs_dRIc/UjnUM29fSWI/AAAAAAAAAtg/1q6_67L-toc/s1600/IMAG2157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hgDhTs_dRIc/UjnUM29fSWI/AAAAAAAAAtg/1q6_67L-toc/s320/IMAG2157.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div><br />Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-58339947204457502922013-10-05T18:56:00.001-04:002013-10-09T00:18:14.352-04:00Back to Work and Getting Settled!I never thought I would be so excited to get back to work! Can you believe it?? After only four days in NYC, I am now employed and ready to serve up some drinks once <u><b>again</b></u>. &nbsp;<i><b>Talk about moving quickly!!</b></i><br /><div><br /></div><div>It's amazing how much better I felt when I woke up this morning. &nbsp;It was like I could <i>actually</i> relax and go have a fun day of walking adventures. &nbsp;Knowing that I have an income in the immediate future provides me tremendous relief. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>NYC is just one of those cities where you <u>don't</u> want to go broke. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>But to be perfectly honest, it's more than just a financial relief. &nbsp;When you uproot your life and move to a huge city such as this, it is very unsettling to not have certain things in order. &nbsp;It felt good to wake up today and know I have somewhere to be on Monday at a certain time. &nbsp;To know that I fit in and that I am respected by managers and so on is something that brings me great contentment. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>It is a nice feeling to be able to meet new people and have something in common, even if it is only our place of employment. &nbsp;<i>It just feels good.&nbsp;</i></div><div><br /></div><div>I feel like I'm part of it now; like I'm really here. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I know that the next major box to check off will be to actually find my very own room to rent. &nbsp;But for now, I'm really happy. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I can't even begin to describe how amazing it is to have good friends. &nbsp;My almost instant transition to the city would not have been so seamless if it were not for my friends here in NY. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>These amazing individuals have been looking out for me, networking, calling, texting, e-mailing, sending out my resumes, apartment hunting and teaching me all about the public transit system. &nbsp;I honestly don't know if I could have, <i>or would have even wanted</i> to do this without them.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I think today I just feel so much gratitude. &nbsp;I have the most loving friends and family. &nbsp;I have a new job that will provide some stability. &nbsp;And I have this great big delicious city, to dive into, head first. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I just don't think I could ask for much more. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Today:</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;">Mint Chocolate Martini</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;">1 1/2 oz Vodka</span></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;">1 oz Chocolate Liqueur</span></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;">1/2 oz Peppermint Schnapps&nbsp;</span></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;">Swirl of chocolate sauce in the glass.&nbsp;</span></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;">Shake and Strain into a martin glass.&nbsp;</span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RoTls-6PUvQ/Ue1drEd3X7I/AAAAAAAAANM/WRpBNIDi0ws/s1600/thankful-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RoTls-6PUvQ/Ue1drEd3X7I/AAAAAAAAANM/WRpBNIDi0ws/s320/thankful-1.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aGfEIIKgxgs/UfKtNvm2n_I/AAAAAAAAAPg/c3HJoGfBinQ/s1600/IMAG2156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aGfEIIKgxgs/UfKtNvm2n_I/AAAAAAAAAPg/c3HJoGfBinQ/s320/IMAG2156.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-64711786966842402772013-10-04T12:21:00.000-04:002013-10-09T00:12:17.553-04:00Road Warriors and Multi-TaskersImagine every annoying encounter you've ever had while commuting to and from work. &nbsp;You're sitting behind the wheel of your compact car, listenening to the radio, and tapping your hands on the dashboard in hopes that your constant vigil over the endless sea of cars ahead of you will enourage the momentum to inch along just a little bit faster. &nbsp;Then, for no logical reason whatsoever, some silver hybrid cuts in front of you as if that that extra five feet made all the difference in their drive time. &nbsp;But you're no fool. &nbsp;You know you're <i>all</i> stuck and not going anywhere fast.<br /><div><br /></div><div>Now imagine a similar scenario, but instead of being surrounded by countless cars, you are simply surrounded by hoards of people. &nbsp;Now let me tell you, foot traffic is far more entertaining than car traffic. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>What I have whitnessed upon entry in New York City, would make any person feel a twinge of anxiety. These people are hysterical... comical really.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I mean, who continues to read their novel while walking off of the subway and down a flight of stairs while people attempt to merge around you, beside you, and in front of you??? From what I gather so far: several dozen NY women. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I stand behind these marvelous multitaskers and think, <i>are you really going to read that book while going down a flight of stairs??? Really lady?????</i>&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Just like the rules of the road, there are most certainly pedestrian rules as well. &nbsp;The foot traffic rules are as followed; don't text and walk or read a book while going up or down a flight of stairs in the subway, DO pick up after your dog, and gladly step aside to double check the Mets scores, and please, under no circumstances engage in small talk. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I find myself knocking over old ladies, getting impatient with tour busses who block the crosswalk when the go light is on, and moving almost effortlessly around the slow moving texting-walkers.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>All in all, I definitely feel like I am in the flow of the legendary pace of the daily walkabouts that I've always heard about. &nbsp;New Yorkers <i>do</i> walk fast... but I walk <i>faster.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Oh wait... this is a commute, not a race...&nbsp;</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>I will have to remember that the next time I am merging with distracted pedestrians... It's not a race, it's not a race, it's not a race...</div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday, as I rolled my luggage down the eleven-block stretch of concrete that spans between my two friends' apartments, I couldn't help but notice that I was still mowing over everyone else!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know... Maybe the pace they set is one of the multi-tasker. &nbsp;But don't count on me writing my blog while walking through Midtown. &nbsp;No sir. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm just <u>not</u> that <i>stretched</i> for time... <b><i>Thank God.</i></b>&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Today:</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">Screwdriver</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">1 oz Vodka&nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e69138;">Splash of orange juice.&nbsp;</span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MPfN5EbU768/UeLWcQmiSCI/AAAAAAAAAGE/eYBialZFWQE/s1600/IMAG1694.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MPfN5EbU768/UeLWcQmiSCI/AAAAAAAAAGE/eYBialZFWQE/s320/IMAG1694.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dYi-HJLAqHk/UlTWuKWv2zI/AAAAAAAABWI/Ru7sg9b4G0s/s1600/IMG_0580.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dYi-HJLAqHk/UlTWuKWv2zI/AAAAAAAABWI/Ru7sg9b4G0s/s1600/IMG_0580.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bvwGKARu3WE/Uegnz3rg2xI/AAAAAAAAAJs/axy7b3GAKQo/s1600/P1170201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bvwGKARu3WE/Uegnz3rg2xI/AAAAAAAAAJs/axy7b3GAKQo/s320/P1170201.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-60829408343251055632013-10-02T23:52:00.000-04:002013-10-03T01:14:13.589-04:00Serendipity If I could describe my first day in New York, I would have to say that it has been nothing short of <u>surreal</u>. &nbsp;I pretty much <i>cannot</i> emphasize that enough. If you read along, you'll no doubt agree.<br /><br />What if I told you that on my very first day in Manhattan, I literally ran into someone I once loved very much? Someone I haven't seen for nearly fifteen years... Would you believe it? Yeah... I couldn't really either! But I did... and it may be one of the craziest experiences of my life.<br /><br />Allow me to explain.<br /><br />I woke up bright and early today in an attempt to tackle a very busy day in the city. &nbsp;I had to meet up with my friend to grab his set of apartment keys and then get ready for my job interview. &nbsp;I was way <i>way</i> ahead of schedule though; leaving me with a few extra hours to kill beforehand. <br /><br />So I walked around the block to the Chelsea Market to grab a quick snack and say hello to my friend who works there, when I was suddenly caught off guard by a man who was giving me a very perplexing look. &nbsp;The place was very crowded; people were everywhere. &nbsp;But for one split second, it was just<i> us</i>. He stopped dead in his tracks: frozen, wide-eyed, hands visibly trembling. &nbsp;It took a few moments, seconds really, to recognize each other. &nbsp;And I could not believe my eyes.<br /><br /><i>Could this really be happening??</i><br /><br />And there, in the middle of one of the busiest most crowded cities in the United States, I embraced one of the first guys I ever really <i>loved</i>. <br /><br />I was sixteen years old when I first met him. &nbsp;He was older (naturally)... and had that kind of edge about him that makes every good girl suddenly feel like a little rebel. <br /><br />He was an artist, a poet and a musician; otherwise known as a triple threat. &nbsp;He brought out creativity in me that I practice to this day. He also introduced me to Indian food, which is probably one of my favorite souvenirs from our time spent together. &nbsp;It was so <i>"mature."</i><br /><br />It was a really dramatic break-up... as almost all teenage romances certainly are. &nbsp;And I've often wondered what had become of this person who meant so much to me all those years ago. <br /><br />If he hadn't seen me, I would have just missed it completely. &nbsp;And now, a rather small conceived idea of killing some time, actually transpired to one of the most intense mind blowing, cataclysmic moments I have EVER experienced. <br /><br />Everything that we've said to each other today is too personal to really share here; and anyway, the details wouldn't really make much sense to people who didn't know us when we were together so long ago. &nbsp;We were so young when we last saw each other. But he was the kind of person who really stuck in my memory: he helped shape the artist, the writer and character I am even to this day. <br /><br />I can hardly find the words to &nbsp;describe what an amazing and life changing moment this was for me today, but the reality of this bizarre twist of fate has left me completely and utterly awe-stuck. &nbsp;And dare I go so far as to say, <i>inspired.&nbsp;</i><br /><br />I went about the rest of my day in an absolute haze. &nbsp;I was abuzz with shock and bewilderment by this serendipitous encounter. <br /><br />And as I lay my head down to wander away into a quiet reflection of the day, I &nbsp;have made a rather startling discovery;<i> there</i><i><b> is</b></i><i> <b>magic</b></i><i> in Manhattan. And I just got one huge, healthy serving of it. &nbsp;</i><br /><br />I'm certainly '<i>Not</i> in Kansas anymore.'<br /><br />Today:<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">Apple Martini</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">1 1/2 oz Vodka&nbsp;</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">1 1/2 oz Sour Apple Pucker</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">Splash of Sour&nbsp;</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">Shaken and served up. </span><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PNval7YfgPM/Ukz3MQwy4gI/AAAAAAAAA0E/asMPW3rDm98/s1600/IMG_1270-476x635.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PNval7YfgPM/Ukz3MQwy4gI/AAAAAAAAA0E/asMPW3rDm98/s1600/IMG_1270-476x635.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0ZBgyGVZ3iA/Ukz3TP00XGI/AAAAAAAAA0M/Rq3rHLZNYG4/s1600/movies-family-tchachkis-magnets-wizard-of-oz-ruby-red-slippers-6684871322479_nat11%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0ZBgyGVZ3iA/Ukz3TP00XGI/AAAAAAAAA0M/Rq3rHLZNYG4/s1600/movies-family-tchachkis-magnets-wizard-of-oz-ruby-red-slippers-6684871322479_nat11%5B1%5D.jpg" height="320" width="246" /></a></div><br /><br />Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-92034691683474445522013-10-01T21:19:00.001-04:002013-10-01T21:19:26.314-04:00The Mile High Blog: NYC BoundWell this is definitely a <u><i>first</i></u>... <br /><br />At this very moment, I am at a comfortable cruising altitude of 36,000 feet and am seated next to the window, where I've enjoyed a nice view of our swift departure from solid ground below. &nbsp;Yes, that's right friends... <i>I am sky high.&nbsp;</i><br /><i><br /></i><i>What an interesting way to write!!!!</i><br /><i><br /></i>It has been a very long day, full of excitement and very mixed emotions. &nbsp;I have come to a conclusion that airport farewells are probably one of the closest things to slow emotional torture around. &nbsp;Seriously...<br /><br />It has been a crazy journey that has brought me to this moment; to this airplane. &nbsp;And talk about a <b><u>delayed</u></b> reaction!!! Oh my gosh!!<br /><br />I woke up bright and early this morning and thought, "Oh SHIT, today I leave for New York City!!" And as you can well imagine, I couldn't fall back to sleep.<br /><br />I got up and began my normal routine, knowing all too well that there <i>wasn't</i>&nbsp;really anything <i>normal</i> about this day in the least. &nbsp;And as my brother and my parents all gathered around me for a sweet hug and short prayer, I couldn't help but realize that this was unlike any other "trip" I've ever taken. <br /><br />It was as if I was seeing some look in their eyes that I hadn't really noticed for the past six months; it was a look that said, "<i>We've lost her... to vortex <b>that is</b></i> <i>Manhattan</i>."<br /><br />I tried to keep things very loose. &nbsp;I tried to make light of the situation. But then it hit me like a ton of bricks as I stepped through the gate to the <i>other side</i> and wondered; <i>could they be right?</i><br /><br />Our eyes stung from fighting back the tears. &nbsp;My heart began to race. &nbsp;And I think we all agree that life (as I've known it) won't ever really be the same. <br /><br />And then the texts and phone calls began...<br /><br />And not one person said, "Have a good <b><u>trip</u></b>." No, no... every single person CONGRATULATED me on MY <u><b>MOVE</b></u>!!!! Hahaha...<br /><br />And here I thought I had convinced everyone that this was sort of a fun "<i>staycation</i>." &nbsp;You know, the kind of trip you go on where you get a little part time job to cover the costs of all those fun touristy attractions?!?! Yeah, well apparently the general consensus amongst my loved ones is that I was meant for New York, or maybe the other way around. <br /><br />It took this second plane ride, and final leg of my journey today, to realize what a brave thing this is that I'm doing. &nbsp;And I feel... a bit in shock, but overall quite happy.<br /><br />Tomorrow I begin the process of the epic job search. &nbsp;And of course, if you've been one of my trusty readers or are just plain genius enough to decipher the play on words that is the title of my blog, well then you know by now that I tend bar as a way to <i>"Serve the Dream."</i> &nbsp;So, if you can imagine this, I actually have a job interview scheduled tomorrow afternoon in SOHO, less that 24 hours after arrival. &nbsp;How is that for moving in a <i>New York Minute??&nbsp;</i><br /><i><br /></i>I guess I just wanted to take a moment to reflect on this day that has proven to be somewhat ceremonious. &nbsp;I want to thank my close friends, my family and the numerous random strangers who've encouraged me to chase my dreams and to jump in the deep end. &nbsp;I swear, it has been the driving force behind my decision to take this leap and for that, as well as many other things, I'm certainly most grateful. <br /><br />As for this entry, I am on a time crunch!!! Because very shortly it will be time to "power down all electronic devices" and that means that they will cut off my Wifi connection.<br /><i><br /></i><i>It's almost time to land... literally and figuratively of course!</i><br /><i><br /></i><i>Today:</i><br /><i><br /></i><i>Airplane Overpriced Cocktail&nbsp;</i><br /><i><br /></i><i>7&amp;7</i><br /><i>1oz &nbsp; Seagrams 7</i><br /><i>Splash of 7 Up</i><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aCG5tqh0pZ8/UgMshkZm1KI/AAAAAAAAAWE/1Qy1tvX1HIE/s1600/IMAG2244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aCG5tqh0pZ8/UgMshkZm1KI/AAAAAAAAAWE/1Qy1tvX1HIE/s320/IMAG2244.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><i><br /></i><i><br /></i><br /><br /><br /><br />Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-76987323710200615032013-09-30T23:53:00.001-04:002013-09-30T23:53:51.289-04:00I Couldn't Have Said it Better...<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Theme From New York, New York</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bOz4FJ-14Mc" target="_blank">Click to Listen!!</a>&nbsp;</b></span></div><div style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">'Start spreadin' the news, I'm leavin' today<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />I want to be a part of it<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />New York, New York<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />These vagabond shoes, are longing to stray<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />Right through the very heart of it<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />New York, New York<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /><br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />I want to wake up, in a city that never sleeps<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />And find I'm king of the hill<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />Top of the heap<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /><br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /><u>These little town blues,</u> are melting away<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />I'll make a brand new start of it<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />In old New York<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /><i><u>It's up to you, New York..New York</u></i><br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /><br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />New York...New York<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />I want to wake up, in a city that never sleeps<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />And find I'm A number one, top of the list<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />King of the hill, A number one....<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" /><br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />These little town blues, are melting away<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />I'll make a brand new start of it<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />In old New York<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere<br style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" />It's up to you, New York..New York New York!!!'</span></div><div style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wish me luck!!!&nbsp;</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6Q1OuXDXfyM/UkpHL2RyIgI/AAAAAAAAAz0/5mOSylb8OOs/s1600/249115_538915819494294_882029154_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6Q1OuXDXfyM/UkpHL2RyIgI/AAAAAAAAAz0/5mOSylb8OOs/s1600/249115_538915819494294_882029154_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><br />Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-53085476567728645852013-09-29T22:58:00.001-04:002013-09-30T08:35:26.012-04:00Search and Rescue: Technical Difficulties Part 3Let me tell you a <i>very</i> short story of loss and recovery; if it ain't broke, <u>DON'T</u> replace it!! (To be Continued tomorrow)... I just <i><b>finally </b></i>got my computer back!!!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-43424716940504150852013-09-28T20:29:00.001-04:002013-09-29T23:01:37.475-04:00Attack of the Geek Squad: Technical difficulties part 2<i>Well...........</i><br /><br />After five failed trips to Best Buy, I am still without a computer which is greatly affecting my ability to write my blog. &nbsp;The past two days I've borrowed my dad's laptop, but as of right now, I'm back to texting my blog post off of my cell phone.<br /><br />**This is <b>not</b> fun...**<br /><br />Basically, in an effort to modernize, I have opened a whole can of mechanical worms that have left me laptop<i>-less</i>. &nbsp;I never dreamt all of this would have transpired over this past week.<br /><br />Today, I actually out-geeked the Geek Squad which is not a compliment by the way! I am still without a computer and am barely hanging on to my sanity. Please be patient with me, while I try to do the same with the Geeks.<br /><br />Please also send <u>good</u> ju ju for my computer's swift recovery!!!<br /><br />I will keep you posted!!!!! Meanwhile, I'm going to keep packing my suitcases!!!<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D0Mj7Mjre74/Ukdz-zDqqLI/AAAAAAAAAzk/ZJKCGZaYGik/s1600/IMG_0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D0Mj7Mjre74/Ukdz-zDqqLI/AAAAAAAAAzk/ZJKCGZaYGik/s320/IMG_0002.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><br /><br />Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-60063668284695614472013-09-27T21:52:00.000-04:002013-09-27T21:52:04.266-04:00Get Serious...Sometimes in life, you just have to <i>get real. &nbsp;Get serious. &nbsp;</i>It is part of the growing process; knowing when to put away certain fanciful dreams or unrealistic aspirations... <i>right</i>?&nbsp;&nbsp;<div><br /></div><div>Isn't that why it's called <i>reality</i>?</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, lately I am struggling to grasp this entire philosophy. &nbsp;I am in a process of juggling "reality" with my desire to pursue a (hopefully successful) career in the Arts. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday, I sat around for a long time, thinking about this whole business of writing. &nbsp;I have been engrossed in this medium for a very long time and most recently, developed some regularity with it. &nbsp;But then someone said I ought to <i>really </i>write, <i>you know</i>, <u>seriously</u>. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>This left me almost short of breath as the word "seriously" washed over me. &nbsp;Am I not taking <i>my writing seriously</i>... or rather, <i><u>myself</u></i> seriously?&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I've only just begun writing again on a regular basis, but lately I have been wondering if I should I apply all this creative energy to a more serious pursuit: like maybe a screenplay or novel. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>But then, I go into a really negative zone and begin to feel (dare I even utter the word)&nbsp;<b style="font-style: italic;">blocked. &nbsp;</b>And then the blockage seems to creep into the other free flowing creative outlets, spreading a foggy haze. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>And it makes me feel frightfully inadequate.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>So that is where I am at tonight; feeling a little blocked, a little foggy and seriously concerned that <i>nothing</i> will amount from <i>any</i> of this. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I suspect we all have days like this; and today is just one of those days for me. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Hopefully, I will snap out of it soon and get back to my regular old self; you remember the one, full of positivity,&nbsp;witty anecdotes<i> and </i>metaphors galore??? <i>Yup, that's the one.</i> &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div><i>Seriously</i>... that's about as serious a writer I am gonna get <i>tonight</i>. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Today:</div><div><span style="color: #e69138;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #e69138;">1 oz Malibu</span></div><div><span style="color: #e69138;">Splash of Pineapple Juice</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OwhIdkGZ-Us/UkY1F2LkmXI/AAAAAAAAAzU/xyrf1-3GIqw/s1600/whitman2.s600x600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OwhIdkGZ-Us/UkY1F2LkmXI/AAAAAAAAAzU/xyrf1-3GIqw/s1600/whitman2.s600x600.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-78420122566484887762013-09-26T18:10:00.000-04:002013-09-26T18:10:07.838-04:00Pushing ButtonsI once heard it said that<i> 'it's our family who are the most capable of pushing our buttons, because they are the ones who installed them.'</i> &nbsp;I don't know about your family, but in mine, I would say this is quite true. &nbsp;People tend to think of this phrase in a negative way, but I am fairly certain that my family's circuit boards are well equipped with all kinds of buttons: some extra sensitive, some are capable of great destruction, while others are mostly pushed to send a resurgence of warm thoughts, shared hopes and love.<br /><br />It's funny how we tend to carry on whatever our parents, grandparents and favorite uncles instilled in us. &nbsp;When we are young, we think we are <i>so</i> different from our parents. &nbsp;And yet, as the years go by, the similarities creep in more and more. &nbsp;I can only imagine how this will mold and shape the generations to come. <br /><br />It can be a scary thought; passing along whatever nuggets of wisdom or peculiar traits we pick up from our upbringing. &nbsp;How much do you borrow from your parents? And which things are you better off checking at the door??<br /><br />Is it like a recipe that we feel the need to keep secret and follow to the very letter? Or, should we attempt to improve upon the recipe all together??<br /><br />It's a sticky subject, but in this day and age, I think it is a rather necessary one to consider.<br /><br />As a writer and storyteller, I tend to sit back at observe others whether I am consciously aware of it or not. &nbsp;And I can't help but get some sort of bizarre satisfaction over the dialogue that I overhear on a daily basis. &nbsp;The things people do and say while at work vs. their home environment is rather amusing. &nbsp;And I am sure, the same can be true for my own little quirks and sense of humor. <br /><br />Some characteristics are intensified while surrounded by my family. &nbsp;And I truly believe it has a little something to do with <i>those buttons</i> I mentioned earlier...<br /><br />The truth is, <i>I think</i> I've finally come to grips with how similar I am to various members of my family, and on the flip side, how <i>very different</i> I am as well. <br /><br />The most unfortunate souvenir we carry along with us is this business of needling the people we love the most. &nbsp;I am not sure <i>who</i> decided way back in the day that <i>picking on</i> their loved ones was some fascinating display of affection, but it seems quite common not only in my nuclear family, but also among other families and within relationships that I see all around me each and every single day. Maybe its the way we manage to stand the people we share our past, present and future histories with.<i> Hmmmm..</i>.<br /><br />But overall, I think we could really do without it. &nbsp;I wouldn't mind if instead of needling one another, we tried harder instead to build each other up. &nbsp;Now<i> that</i> is a button I wouldn't mind dusting off for the betterment of all our sanity.<br /><br />Why not try a little harder to keep our hands to ourselves and leave other peoples'<br />(more sensitive) buttons the hell <i>alone</i>! Or in the very least, press some positive buttons to build each other up while your're on a roll...<br /><br />I think that would be a refreshing change of pace for sure!<br /><br />Today:<br /><br /><span style="color: #45818e;">Gin &amp; Tonic!&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="color: #45818e;">1 oz Gin</span><br /><span style="color: #45818e;">Splash of Tonic&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="color: #45818e;">On the Rocks with a Lime Wedge!!</span><br /><span style="color: #45818e;">Delicious, refreshing and so simple!!!</span><br /><span style="color: #45818e;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #45818e;">Here with my big brother... the ultimate picker and best friend!!!</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wgIa7elq3-M/UebTHMI_9aI/AAAAAAAAAIY/l8CaU7HtTuk/s1600/IMAG0144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wgIa7elq3-M/UebTHMI_9aI/AAAAAAAAAIY/l8CaU7HtTuk/s1600/IMAG0144.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Below: Two future buttons pushers (my nieces)!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TTVT0k14-J0/UfaRJyk4USI/AAAAAAAAARY/tcEjDNPKWIs/s1600/DSC01979.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TTVT0k14-J0/UfaRJyk4USI/AAAAAAAAARY/tcEjDNPKWIs/s1600/DSC01979.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5SbJhAHYup4/Ug5afvn4d6I/AAAAAAAAAa8/ofsZCOfmYfU/s1600/P1010671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5SbJhAHYup4/Ug5afvn4d6I/AAAAAAAAAa8/ofsZCOfmYfU/s1600/P1010671.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-1375545903946951822013-09-25T16:29:00.000-04:002013-09-25T16:29:19.930-04:00The Calm Before the... From where I sit today, there is nothing but blue skies and calm seas ahead... <i>literally</i>. It honestly could not be a more picturesque afternoon here on the St. Mary's River. &nbsp;And to be perfectly honest, as much as I am truly enjoying every moment of it, I can't help but wonder what is waiting on the <i>other side </i>of this seemingly picture perfect September day. <i>How sad!&nbsp;</i><div><i><br /></i></div><div>I have come to realize just how <i><b>jaded</b></i> that sounds!! Does every <i>good thing</i> in life always come with a price? How fortunate are those lucky mega-million lotto winners anyway?? Aren't there a hundred different crazy statistics that suggest a wave of bad luck that ensues upon cashing in your winning ticket??<i> Ugh</i>... I am beginning to sound pretty <i>paranoid</i>. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I can't tell you when this little habit began, but somewhere along the way, I began to knock on wood. &nbsp;After every possible statement of absolution or certainty, I would immediately sense some dangling threat of demise out there... just waiting to prove everything to the contrary. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>And so, I began to knock on wood, throw salt over my shoulder (though now I forget which side is the lucky one) and guard my hand mirrors from shattering at all costs. <i>What is wrong with me???</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>I get extremely uncomfortable with statements like; <i>'That'll never happen,' 'that's impossible,' </i>or the worst, <i>'everything will be just fine.' &nbsp;Aaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!! (Knocks on wood.)</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>Recently, I have attempted to become less of a skeptic; perhaps because I so desperately want to believe that great things can actually occur without some torrid aftermath. Or maybe it's to preserve my delicate hands from knocking feverishly on dining tables, chairs, floors, siding, row boats, pencils etc. &nbsp;It seems to be some new revised form of superstition, and so I'm not sure how counter-productive these new methods are. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Instead of sweating bullets for what I fear<i> could </i>happen, I have opted instead to sweat out the anxiety through a ninety minute hot yoga session. &nbsp;Instead of calming my nerves with an epic freak out, I am turning to the calming blend of essential oils and quiet reflection. &nbsp;<b>Exhale...&nbsp;</b><i><b>Namaste.</b> </i>&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Is it working?? Hmmm, I may have to test this theory for years to come in order to answer that one. &nbsp;That would only be fair, considering the decades I have spent looking over my shoulder for the, dare I say,<i> inevitable??&nbsp;</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>Although I cannot promise any miracles here, I may just be a few steps closer to striking a happy balance between <b><i>caution and optimism. </i></b>&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Could it be possible to just look out and solely appreciate the <i>absolutely perfect</i> day? Given that I just winced while typing the word<i> perfect</i>... I would venture to guess I still have a ways to go.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>But a willing heart is capable of tremendous things! <i>Oh...hello there my little optimistic <b>other </b>half... Welcome back! &nbsp;</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>What can I say?? I guess I'm a work in progress. &nbsp;</i>It's <i>so easy</i> to get caught up in a whirlwind of anxiety over <i>what could happen...&nbsp;</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>But no matter what <i>could </i>happen tomorrow, it truly doesn't change how utterly beautiful <i>it is</i> <u>today</u>. &nbsp;Perhaps this is the calm before the storm. &nbsp;But if I'm wrong, and my suspicious nature is merely at work again, what a shame it would be to cast that "doomsday" spin on such an otherwise perfect day.</div><div><br /></div><div>I kick myself and repeat under my breath, "It isn't doomsday. It's Wednesday." &nbsp;And on that note, I think I will go for a walk and enjoy <i>what is</i>... and <u>not</u>&nbsp;fear what could be. Life is too short for that type of consistent negative mentality. &nbsp;And this day is <i>far too pretty </i>to feel anything other than <b>peace</b>.</div><div><br /></div><div>Today:</div><div><span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;">Brandy Alexander</span></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;">1 1/2 oz Brandy</span></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;">1 oz Dark Creme De Cacao&nbsp;</span></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;">1 oz Half and half</span></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;">1/4 tsp of Nutmeg</span></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;">Shake and strain into a martini glass.&nbsp;</span></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WpfxLnjl-jg/UhJGKJ3MWfI/AAAAAAAAAcw/BjYTYCq1gpI/s1600/IMAG0604.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WpfxLnjl-jg/UhJGKJ3MWfI/AAAAAAAAAcw/BjYTYCq1gpI/s320/IMAG0604.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5avoc_fnZqY/UhT0kSzumVI/AAAAAAAAAdw/KJDzBFoTq20/s1600/IMG_20120229_154218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5avoc_fnZqY/UhT0kSzumVI/AAAAAAAAAdw/KJDzBFoTq20/s320/IMG_20120229_154218.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #783f04;"><br /></span></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</div><div><i><br /></i></div>Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-21419487145403205482013-09-24T22:39:00.002-04:002013-09-25T00:03:35.177-04:00The Greatest of These is LoveFor a very long time, I have been engrossed in a constant dialogue with the Divine. &nbsp;It is a very personal conversation we've shared all these years, so I would rather not attempt to quantify what this exchange has meant to me. &nbsp;What would be the point of that anyhow? As I said, it's a rather <i>private</i> conversation.<br /><br />I am not someone who has the desire to set out to change other people (for the most part anyway). <i>Ask my ex-boyfriends and they may argue otherwise.</i> And perhaps that says more about me than I would like. Oh well... I guess I can live with that if the shoe fits <i>(me)</i>.<br /><br />What I mean is this: I cannot pretend to understand what life is like <i>in your shoes</i>. &nbsp;And I would certainly hope that you would extend to me a similar offering. <br /><br />But what I have come to understand with relative certainty is that the most Supreme force in existence is <i>love</i>. &nbsp;From where I stand, it is love that is the ultimate trump card.<br /><br />From love stems the most bountiful and gracious elements of our beings (and furthermore, beyond our beings). From a place of love we may also be so humbled to encounter true compassion, forgiveness, honesty, awakening and surrender. The <i>rest</i> are just <i>the details</i>.<br /><br />I suppose I am moved to write about love tonight, because from where I sit, I am fortunate enough to be surrounded by so much of it: <i>my family</i>. <br /><br />Last week, a very good friend of mine suffered a great loss<i> in his</i> family. &nbsp;And when I went about completing the mundane tasks of my daily life, I couldn't help but notice the sinking feeling I had on my shoulders that hovered about me like a heavy winter jacket. &nbsp;There was a sadness looming in the air that I couldn't shake. &nbsp;But what I came to realize over the ensuing days, was the undeniable fact that I was not alone in this feeling... far from it. &nbsp;All of the friends who know and love this person, felt a weight of sorrow for the experience he is facing. <br /><br />There was a <i><b>collective</b></i> feeling of loss that we felt for our friend. &nbsp;Though we may not know the loss in the same way as he who had <i>directly</i> suffered it, that did not prevent us from feeling the gravity of it all and carrying it around with us too. <i>Why?</i> &nbsp;Because <i>we love</i> our friend. &nbsp;We love him so much that we are profoundly affected by what happens to him whether it is good or bad. <br /><br />Now imagine that you love your country, your heritage, or even better: <i>our</i> planet... What collective state of mourning, of joy, and unity, would we feel if we could all relate to one another under such a common thread of pure goodness? &nbsp;I imagine that the effects would be <i>quite</i> profound. <br /><br />I guess I am coming from that <i>insane</i> and <i>innocent</i> idea that we should all <i>really, really, really, really try</i> to get along. &nbsp;And that in the end, bitterness, resentment and hostility only serve to<b> corrupt</b> our own <i>inherent</i> goodness<i> and</i> spiritual growth.<br /><br />I'm on a tangent here; I seek to promote and become a great advocate for true, honest, forgiving, relentless, tireless, simple, sweet, compassionate and unwavering <i>love</i>. &nbsp; &nbsp; <br /><br />Because there is no greater human emotion than this in my humble opinion. <br /><br />Love comes in many forms. &nbsp;And love is tested in arguably many more forms. But what we do when we are given such a tremendous offering of the heart speaks volumes to our own spiritual journey with the Divine, as well as within ourselves. <br /><br />To my parents, I have to offer all my gratitude, for showing me a very real and unvarnished path to love and <i><u>in</u></i> love. &nbsp;Theirs is a love story that I have no doubt Shakespeare himself would've envied the chance to have committed to the page for future generations to romanticize, memorize and repeat.<br /><br />And even better... they have passed on to me an appreciation for such a love. <br /><br />Whether it is a love of your family, your friend, a country or even better yet, a neighbor, my sincerest hope is that we may all experience love in its most real form. <br /><br />You know, I'm just a simple person. &nbsp;I have hopes, dreams and aspirations. &nbsp;I am not afraid of working hard. &nbsp;But what I truly wish with all my heart for my time here on Earth, and for yours too <i><b>no matter who you are</b></i>, is to have experienced ample and honest&nbsp;<i>love</i> in this life.<br /><br />Like I said before; <i>the rest are just the details.</i><br /><br />Wishing you all lots of love, wherever you may be. And know that you are <i>never</i> alone.<br /><br />Today:<br /><br /><span style="color: #274e13;">Cuba Libre</span><br /><span style="color: #274e13;">1 oz Rum&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="color: #274e13;">Splash of Coca Cola</span><br /><span style="color: #274e13;">On the Rocks!</span><br /><span style="color: #274e13;">Garnish with a lime wedge!!</span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HbbrGvLY-jU/UheKFMTCapI/AAAAAAAAAeg/GRVGDXrP9uc/s1600/DSC_0075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HbbrGvLY-jU/UheKFMTCapI/AAAAAAAAAeg/GRVGDXrP9uc/s320/DSC_0075.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fNj_y6F1bcU/UioMLYMCuLI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/feTQRahWx-c/s1600/l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fNj_y6F1bcU/UioMLYMCuLI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/feTQRahWx-c/s1600/l.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BHT0RzgmVfI/UioLUhHqhJI/AAAAAAAAAm4/J9lpmxXEA2k/s1600/IMG_20101224_210718.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BHT0RzgmVfI/UioLUhHqhJI/AAAAAAAAAm4/J9lpmxXEA2k/s320/IMG_20101224_210718.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><br /><br /><br />Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-13112838918731571172013-09-22T14:40:00.003-04:002013-09-22T14:40:55.667-04:00A Case of Cold FeetYou can be sure it is going to be a rather stressful day when every thought that crosses your mind upon waking ends with a question mark. &nbsp;<div><br /></div><div><i>When am I going to come back from NYC? When am I going to see my dogs again? Will they miss me when I am traveling? Or will they forget all about me?? Where will I get a job? If I get a job, will I end up staying through the winter in New York? Or will I go back to California in January? How long before my funds run out? Am I making the wrong choice? Is this a crazy plan? What if...? Where to...? &nbsp;How much...???? When??? Why??? How??? Where???&nbsp;</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>I have to tell you, this is<i> not </i>a great way to start out the morning. &nbsp;I sat in bed for nearly an hour as these questions ran through my mind; similar to the way the numbers on the stock market ticker race by with endless flux.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>And I couldn't help but ask myself one last question before getting out of bed: <i>'Am I getting cold feet?' </i>&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I've had months to plan this excursion. &nbsp;I have had ample time to carefully deconstruct every nagging fear or question. &nbsp;And yet, out of nowhere, I am suddenly overcome with nerves. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>With nearly one week left to go before my impending journey, I feel more anxious than ever about taking this trip. &nbsp;I know it is going to be such a good thing for me to experience, but the weight of the unknowns is a heavy burden to lug around... along with my huge suitcases.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>All these questions simply cannot be answered until I get there. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>And so, with that in mind, I am trying to look at it as a long vacation... &nbsp;I have no clue what I will want to do after I arrive. &nbsp;I am not sure if staying for more than a month or two will pan out. &nbsp;<i>But how can I know?</i> I simply can't from where I sit right now. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I guess this is just how life goes. &nbsp;You have to take some chances and just hope for the best. &nbsp;We can't always have all the answers laid out perfectly before us on a silver tray, but we can do our best to handle whatever may come.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm just going to have to double up on the socks and slippers this week, suck it up, take a deep breath, pack my yoga mat... and try to keep my feet roasty and toasty...</div><div><br /></div><div>Getting all worked up over the many variables isn't really doing me any favors. &nbsp;Time to live and let go. &nbsp; Let go and let God. &nbsp;The rest are just the details. And who needs them anyway<u><b>?</b></u>&nbsp;Oh shoot... <i>another </i>question mark!&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Guess my feet are still a little chilly after all. <i>Oh well...</i> Better just enjoy what I have right now in front of me; two warm little dogs who love nothing more than to make every moment count. They are the zen masters of living in the present moment. Their paws are <i>always</i>&nbsp;nice and warm.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>&nbsp;Today:</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;">Absolut Stress</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;">1/2 oz Absolut Vodka</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;">1/2 oz Malibu Rum</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;">1/2 oz Peach Schnapps</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;">Equal Parts Cranberry</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;">Pineapple and Orange Juices</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;">On the Rocks!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3XOOmp-6aAE/Uj84d9ao6zI/AAAAAAAAAy8/Cf3o43O0ZYo/s1600/cold+feet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3XOOmp-6aAE/Uj84d9ao6zI/AAAAAAAAAy8/Cf3o43O0ZYo/s1600/cold+feet.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0c343d;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i><br /></i></div>Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-82082813354401736612013-09-21T15:49:00.001-04:002013-09-21T15:49:51.933-04:00The Unfortunate MouseacreIt's official; I'm traumatized. For the past few days, I have been engaged in an ongoing internal battle of ethics. &nbsp;Do you suppose it is ethical to lay out poisonous traps throughout your garage/laundry/storage facility with every intention of wiping out any and all unsuspecting trespassing rodent species?? &nbsp;I used to believe that it was sadly a necessary part of life. &nbsp;You have to protect your home from these pesky intruders, right??&nbsp;Well, after the unfortunate <i><b>mouse</b>acre</i> that I unknowingly participated in over the past few days, I'm just not so sure. <br /><br />Perhaps to fully understand the gravity of the situation, I probably ought to go back to the very beginning.<br /><br />A few days ago, I went downstairs to the garage to do some laundry. &nbsp;No big deal, just another ordinary day. &nbsp;Until the moment I dropped a bunched up sock and it rolled behind the washing machine and landed right next to one <i>very</i> dead mouse.<br /><br />The mouse had hacked up a small puddle of what I assumed to be something formerly internal... And I knew without a shadow of a doubt the cause of death: poison. <br /><br />I was horrified. &nbsp;But if that wasn't already bad enough, I glanced to the space next to the air conditioning unit and saw another dead mouse in a very similar state: dead as a doornail. <br /><br />I shrugged it off after a few hours though, after convincing myself that this was just one more unfortunate aspect of survival on this planet. &nbsp;Sometimes, you have to take out a few rats to protect what is rightfully yours. <br /><br />But then, this theory was completely shot to shit yesterday upon revealing another gruesome discovery. &nbsp;Mommy and Daddy mouse had left behind at least five little baby mice. &nbsp;I noticed the babies after hearing a constant squeak/cry that persisted for hours upon hours. <br /><br />They were so tiny. &nbsp;Their eyes hadn't even opened. <br /><br />I thought for sure that they had been infected with poison, as the two that were still alive were crying and writhing in a way that surely looked like a pain from their stomachs. &nbsp;Well I was only partly correct. &nbsp;The babies were not suffering from poison, but rather from starvation. &nbsp;Who knows how long they had been sitting there, crying out for their mommy. <br /><br />Well, basically, I couldn't stand it anymore. &nbsp;So I decided to scoop them into a dish and put the last two survivors outside... to let nature takes its course. <br /><br />And when I walked away and left them to the elements, I began to cry. &nbsp;I know, I know... they are just mice!!! For goodness sake, they will grow up to destroy things and spread diseases...<br /><br />But I honestly can't help myself. <br /><br />I felt so bad; in one swoop, we had somehow managed to massacre an entire rodent nuclear family. <br /><br />And so, after I shed a few tears and pleaded for forgiveness from these helpless infant mice, I made a decision... to be a vegetarian...<br /><br />I'm sorry, but I'm just not cut out to kill anything that has whiskers, fur and snuggles their siblings... I'm just not up for the job.<br /><br />So I guess, ultimately, the sacrifice of these mice may have saved one less cow from ending up on the grill.<br /><br /><i>Oh who am I kidding?? Probably not...&nbsp;</i><br /><i><br /></i><i>But at least not for me. &nbsp;</i>Salad for dinner.<br /><br />Today:<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;">Madras</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;">1 oz Vodka</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;">Equal Parts Orange Juice&nbsp;</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;">and Cranberry Juice</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660000;">On the rocks.</span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cN_bYytOUuE/Uj34CdlnHVI/AAAAAAAAAyk/cLYfEhiz3v4/s1600/t1larg.bpa.mice.gi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cN_bYytOUuE/Uj34CdlnHVI/AAAAAAAAAyk/cLYfEhiz3v4/s1600/t1larg.bpa.mice.gi.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mN3lFRUobhY/Uj34Jgf6IRI/AAAAAAAAAys/Kva8c_kEamo/s1600/DownloadedFile-3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mN3lFRUobhY/Uj34Jgf6IRI/AAAAAAAAAys/Kva8c_kEamo/s1600/DownloadedFile-3.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-84607865055854474632013-09-20T15:10:00.001-04:002013-09-21T13:40:06.357-04:00Something Out of NothingGuess what I am doing at this very moment? (Que Jeopardy music for a ten second pause.) Did you guess blogging?? <i>Well duh</i>. &nbsp;Aside from the obvious answer, I am actually sitting in a Little Caesar's Pizzeria enjoying my very own large plain cheese. <i>&nbsp;I am a girl on a budget remember??</i><br /><i><br /></i>In a last ditch effort to shake the money tree, I have gotten fairly... ummmm -----. &nbsp;Not desperate! No, no... CREATIVE!!&nbsp;&nbsp;<i>Yes, let's call it <b>creative</b>.</i><br /><br />I rounded up about ten years worth of winter jackets, skin tight blue jeans, boots, wedges and host of other miscellaneous accessories and hauled them off to a resale clothing store. &nbsp;They estimated that the sorting process would take roughly forty-five minutes and so I decided to kill a few birds with one stone. &nbsp;Eat some lunch, write my blog and hopefully, turn a decades worth of laundry into some cold hard cash. <br /><br />Let me tell you something folks; I'm getting really good at this part-time business of turning a little somethin' something out of a whole lot of<i> nothing. &nbsp;</i><br /><br />Here's a few tips and tricks I have learned under the gun... or more specifically,<i> a budget.&nbsp;</i><br /><br />1. Someone may actually pay you for those 6" high heels that were a complete mistake/impulse purchase.<br /><br />2. Little Caesar's Pizza always sells "Hot 'n Ready" large pizzas for $5.00<br /><br />3. If you want to insure that your $5.00 pizza is actually fresh, make sure to order a plain cheese pizza instead of the pepperoni. &nbsp;They typically only have pepperonis sitting on stand by, and not plain cheese. &nbsp;So if you have ten minutes to spare, then you will have a fresh large pizza right out of the oven for five bucks!<br /><br />4. All that spare change stuck together in your vehicle's cup holders actually amount to something! And if you are patient, and can multitask while watching a movie, you can roll about six hundred pennies in about thirty minutes. &nbsp;Well six bucks, may not seem like much, but it does buy you that large cheese pizza we were just talking about. <br /><br />5. A smile and friendly small talk goes a long way. &nbsp;(The lovely manager at the pizza shop threw in a free drink for me after I told her what a great job she was doing.)<br /><br /><b>Sometimes it really <u>pays</u> to get creative!!!</b><br /><b><br /></b>This summer I bought a brand new pair of running shoes, an airline ticket to NYC <i>and </i>a full tank of gas, all with the loose change I had stock piled around my apartment in jars, purses and yes, my car.<br /><br />It just goes to show that you can make a little something out of what you may have thought was nothing.<br /><br />So if you'll excuse me, I have to pack up the rest of this pizza and walk over to the resale shop and see how much all that loot has earned me!!!<br /><br />Just one more small step on this road to the big city. <br /><br />Count your pennies<i> and </i>your blessings!!!! And by all means, get creative!<br /><br /><br />Today:<br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;">Woo Woo</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;">1 1/2 oz Vodka</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;">1 1/2 oz Peach Schnapps</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;">3 oz Cranberry juice</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6aa84f;">on the rocks!</span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LWuHwslwJSo/UjydeI0z-_I/AAAAAAAAAuM/PwvUUw9qsXE/s1600/yard-sale.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LWuHwslwJSo/UjydeI0z-_I/AAAAAAAAAuM/PwvUUw9qsXE/s1600/yard-sale.jpg" height="236" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ObpwRTi3-70/UjydmXPimzI/AAAAAAAAAuU/mXRCYG_Ezo4/s1600/donate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ObpwRTi3-70/UjydmXPimzI/AAAAAAAAAuU/mXRCYG_Ezo4/s1600/donate.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-62736126410072487232013-09-19T14:44:00.000-04:002013-09-19T14:44:39.736-04:00Another Man's TreasureAll week long I have been dreading the task of going to the Social Security Administration. &nbsp;Can you blame me? &nbsp;It has been my own personal experience that any government run institution is a royal pain in the ass; long lines, unruly and impatient children and an either boiling hot or freezing cold climate. &nbsp;Almost sounds like a dreaded trip to the Verizon Wireless store eh?&nbsp;<div><br /></div><div>Well anyway.... I finally mustered up the strength to tackle this errand head on today. &nbsp;Having been fully caffeinated and determined to accomplish this task, I set out armed an ready for a long and unpleasant afternoon. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>When I walked into the local Social Security office I was surprised. &nbsp;It wasn't nearly as treacherous as I had anticipated. &nbsp;In fact, I was only one of three people waiting in line. <i>Thank you God. </i>&nbsp;<br /><div><br /></div><div>"Number twenty-one please, " the man from behind the window called. &nbsp;<i>That's my number!!!&nbsp;</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>After answering a few basic questions, the man looked down at the paperwork and sighed. &nbsp;I must have looked concerned because he almost immediately explained his long winded exhale. &nbsp;He looked at my former address and revealed how much he absolutely <i>loved</i> Nashville, TN. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Before I knew it, we were engulfed in a conversation that reminded me of my own affection for my former residence. &nbsp;He asked me why I would leave such an amazing city; what had brought me here, and if I ever thought of going back. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>And over the following few seconds, my entire Nashville experience flashed before my eyes. &nbsp;I thought of my apartment, my favorite hangouts, my wonderful friends and even a few unforgettable memories. &nbsp;I swallowed hard and cleared my throat as I suddenly remembered where I was: in a government office about a week and a half away from heading off to New York City. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I suddenly felt a sinking feeling that I had no idea if I would ever have a real reason to go back to Nashville. &nbsp;Of course I have about a hundred great reasons to <i>visit</i>. &nbsp;But the thought of actually moving back there one day, washed over me in complete bewilderment. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I looked up at the man on the opposite side of the counter and gave him the most honest answer I could think of on the fly;<i>&nbsp;"I would have to have a really good reason</i>."</div><div><br /></div><div>This guy was enamored with and determined to move to the very city I had just departed. &nbsp;And I couldn't help but hope the best for him. &nbsp;See, <i>I loved Nashville</i>. I still do. &nbsp;Perhaps I always will.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Nashville is the kind of city you can simply exist within without having too much pressure or strain. It is a simpler kind of life. &nbsp;There is plenty of the world's greatest entertainment, delicious food and some genuinely nice folks. &nbsp;It is the kind of city that <i><b>doesn't require much</b></i> from its inhabitants. &nbsp;And to be perfectly honest, that was precisely my angst.&nbsp;</div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>I am not ready to sit idle in a city that allows me to do so with relative ease. </i>&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Perhaps one day, when I am tired of meeting the demands of the world, I will go running back to the South just as fast as my feet can carry me. And living there, I will feel very little push and stress from the rat race. &nbsp;That isn't such a bad picture; sitting on the front porch in my later years, sipping on a sweet tea. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>But the conversation did refresh my memory of all that I loved about Tennessee. &nbsp;And oddly enough, the brief exchange between two complete strangers is exactly why Nashville is such a treasure; it brings out the neighborliness in people... <i>even government officials</i>. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Today was the first pleasant and dare I say, <i>painless,</i> experience I have ever had while at a government run institution. &nbsp;It was even more pleasant than a trip to the dentist, which is shocking because I pretty much <i><u>hate</u></i> having metal tools anywhere near my tonsils.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>It just goes to show that one man's <i>past</i>, just may be another man's treasure. &nbsp;It is comforting to know that there are always more people lined up eagerly to experience things I have held so dear. &nbsp;And maybe, one day, I will go back there and have another go 'round of Southern Hospitality. &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>In the meantime, I am hungry. &nbsp;And I think a Big Apple a day is just the medicine I've needed for a long time. &nbsp;<i>Well that, and a social security card.</i> &nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>When I turned around, there was suddenly a very long line behind me. &nbsp;And I couldn't help but smile as I walked out the door, &nbsp;having accomplished more than what I bargained for in record time.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Today:</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Mint Julep</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">2 1/2 oz Bourbon</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">4-5 Mint Sprigs</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">1/2 oz Simple Syrup</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Muddle Mint and Syrup in a collins glass and then</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">fill the glass with Bourbon. &nbsp;Stir with crushed ice.&nbsp;</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yw1xMEZKcSI/UjtEhMKQBQI/AAAAAAAAAt0/AVmUeDrTF3Y/s1600/IMAG2582-1_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yw1xMEZKcSI/UjtEhMKQBQI/AAAAAAAAAt0/AVmUeDrTF3Y/s1600/IMAG2582-1_2.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E-eeppVVPtA/UjtEvczkpMI/AAAAAAAAAt8/6mVqYKox1GM/s1600/P1000312_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E-eeppVVPtA/UjtEvczkpMI/AAAAAAAAAt8/6mVqYKox1GM/s1600/P1000312_2.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><br /></span></div><div>&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>&nbsp;&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><div><br /></div><div>&nbsp;</div></div></div></div>Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-494135256307606597.post-36281053618609640412013-09-18T12:30:00.001-04:002013-09-18T12:42:15.913-04:00BaggageWell, there is no mistaking it; I've got a lot of baggage. &nbsp;<i>Literally</i>... As I look around the apartment at the three empty suitcases that I'll inevitably fill, I am suddenly overwhelmed. <br /><br />Getting ready to go on a trip for an undetermined length of time is a somewhat daunting process. &nbsp;Do I pack work clothes? Bedding? Winter boots, jackets and scarves? &nbsp;Do I pack light and have some things shipped if I stay longer?? <i>Oy...</i><br /><i><br /></i>Meanwhile, my poor little dogs are hovering around the luggage and pacing the apartment. &nbsp;As soon as I pull out the suitcases, they look at them wide eyed and nervous: <i>not this again.</i><br /><br />I won't be able to take my dogs with me yet. &nbsp;It would make the settling in process about a hundred times more difficult. &nbsp;And if I can spare them the added anxiety of roommates, city traffic, and late nights, then there is no question that I ought to leave them behind... <i>for now</i>.<br /><br /><i>It's crazy</i>. <br /><br />I look around and see a patchwork quilt of my life, post graduation. &nbsp;I feel lucky to have experienced so much over the past eleven years since high school. &nbsp;<i>What a wild ride</i>. &nbsp;From the West Coast to the &nbsp;great Southwest, then down to the Mid South and up to the Midwest; my life looks more like a stack of postcards rather than the images I see in most of my peers' family albums. &nbsp;But that's just me. &nbsp;That is the nature of change and adapting to whatever circumstance I seem to be in the midst of. It's an amazing thing, to have had the good fortune of living life in so many wondrous places. <br /><br />But the baggage I accumulated over the years is bulky, heavy and perhaps <i>excessive</i>. There are some things I am holding on to that may not serve me on the road ahead. &nbsp;Like my wedding china for instance; <i>someone please tell me what I am supposed to do with <b>that</b></i>?? &nbsp;The delicate place settings, serving bowls and coffee cups have lasted much longer than my marriage ever did. &nbsp;And I carry the box around from state to state with precision and care... <u><b><i>And I am over it.</i></b></u><br /><br />Sometimes I imagine taking a trip to Greece, where upon arrival, I unwrap the delicate wedding china and hurl it at the pristine white floor and let it smash at my feet while shouting<b><i>&nbsp;OPA!!!</i></b>&nbsp;In this fantasy, I am dancing around the shattered pieces, wearing a crown of olive leaves and a sleek white dress similar to Aphrodite's.<br /><br /><i>Hummus anyone?</i><br /><br />And what about the other items I have hauled around from place to place: pictures, dresses and books of poetry? Shall I stand at the mouth of the East River and toss it in as some sacrificial offering to Manhattan... <i>to my future??&nbsp;</i><br /><i><br /></i>Or shall I continue to leave it happily collecting dust in my storage, as I have done for the past few years? The boxes are stacked high; one on top of the other... <i>Talk about excess baggage.</i><br /><br />I know that the day will surely come when <i><b>I will know</b></i> what to do. &nbsp;I can sense that I am inching my way closer to the answer with each passing season. &nbsp;<i>I don't want this much baggage</i>. <br /><br />I don't <i>need </i>it either. <br /><br />But the answer hasn't come to me yet. &nbsp;But I have a hunch that it is waiting for me in this next place I explore: probably under a shady tree, speckled with October's rose and amber hues in the midst of Central Park. Perhaps then I will know what to do and how to shed these bulky items that are no longer serving me. Alas, I continue to pack.<br /><br /><i>*Note to self: have fun, work hard, be safe and travel light!&nbsp;</i><br /><i><br /></i>Today:<br /><i><br /></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">Cape Cod</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">1 oz Vodka</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">2 oz Cranberry Juice</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">Garnish with a lime wedge</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">On the Rocks!</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y56bruJAKjc/UjnTDyGmFBI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/pTzmXFbJ228/s1600/IMAG2693_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y56bruJAKjc/UjnTDyGmFBI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/pTzmXFbJ228/s1600/IMAG2693_2.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kHgTI_o3vy8/UjnU8zyjduI/AAAAAAAAAtk/MVBnY9lodHI/s1600/IMAG1730-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kHgTI_o3vy8/UjnU8zyjduI/AAAAAAAAAtk/MVBnY9lodHI/s1600/IMAG1730-1.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"><br /></span><i><br /></i><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Adriane Kileyhttps://plus.google.com/113159598552875706660noreply@blogger.com0